


Tracking Anklet Kink

by Rokeon



Category: White Collar
Genre: Consensual Kink, M/M, Pre-Slash, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-01
Updated: 2008-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rokeon/pseuds/Rokeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter keeps looking at Neal's ankle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tracking Anklet Kink

**Author's Note:**

> For the [kinkmeme prompt:](http://collarkink.livejournal.com/516.html?thread=516) Peter is a bit more fascinated by the ankle bracelet than he'd like - he can't stop himself from staring whenever it shows! Neal finds this interesting.
> 
> I wrote the foreplay; follow the link to the original thread for another anon's pwp followup.

His credentials look very proper and official, but Neal's not stupid. All the prettily-printed paperwork in the world can't make a fake into the real thing - he should know - and his position with the FBI is less like a consultant and more like a K-9. That's Neil's life, now: a police dog with a collar on his leg, a $700 kennel, and a two mile chain that Peter occasionally takes off to let him chase someone down. 

Speaking of Peter, he keeps looking at Neal's ankle.

At first Neal thought he was just checking to see that the GPS monitor was still there, still working. As if he thought that Neal would have disabled the thing, wired it back onto his leg, and waltzed back into the FBI's offices the next morning when he could have been on a plane for that fabled party in Monte Carlo. Which is... not what he was planning when he called Mozzie. Not exactly.

Anyway, Monaco is overrated.

But Peter never seems to be reassured by the sight of the anklet. It makes him more agitated instead, has him shifting in his chair or pacing across the room whenever he catches a glimpse of that little green light. Neal was starting to worry that that Peter was having second thoughts, thinking about calling off their arrangement and throwing him back in prison, but something oddly familiar about his eyes said that theory was wrong. It wasn't regret, wasn't doubts, wasn't anything like the look of a man who's slept on a decision and thought better of it the next morning. Neal knows that expression, has watched for it on a hundred cons, and Peter doesn't have the air of a man who's suddenly started to wonder if he's being cheated. 

Peter is many things, but he's never been a mark. (Not that Neal didn't consider it, back when all the FBI had on him was a stack of forged bonds and a clever nickname.) If anything, he's the opposite, and that's the thought that makes Neal's hazy recognition come clear. That look Peter has when he sees the tracking anklet on Neal's leg, it's the same as the look Kate had when he finally persuaded her start playing along instead of cheering from the sidelines. She turned into a brilliant grifter, once she set her reservations aside, but the half-wild cast to her face in the middle of that first job...

There's nothing quite like watching someone as they realize just how much they like something that they've always believed they shouldn't. In Neal's experience, it's almost as good as the sex afterward. 

Neal grins as he leans back in Peter's chair and props his feet up on his desk, making sure that the leg of his suit pants falls just so. He's never been adverse to gaining a little more experience, after all. And what sort of dog would he be if he never tried to take the leash in his teeth and run with it?


End file.
